


That's Not Sara

by puptart



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Gen, Gender-Neutral Runner Five, Past Relationship(s), Season 4 Spoilers, and discussion of five feels, sad runner five feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:40:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puptart/pseuds/puptart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*****MAJOR SEASON 4 SPOILERS******</p><p>Runner Five sees someone they thought they'd never see again, in a way that shouldn't be possible. Psychological warfare can be a bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Not Sara

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!! I've had this marinating for a while and finally decided to put it out there. I've already written the next/final part, so keep an eye out for it. I'll probably have it up by tomorrow.
> 
> **Edit**  
> I put the rest of it in! Enjoy some Christmas angst.

The facility is bigger than you thought it would be. Keeping up the maintenance must be a bitch, so it really tells you something about just how many people Sigrid has working for her that she can maintain such a place.

Then again, not nearly as many people as she needs, you think with a grin. Getting into this place was a cinch. You're barely breaking a sweat.

 _"Don't stop running yet, Runner Five._ _No one seems to be coming for you at the moment, but I wouldn’t assume that means they won’t,”_ Janine says sternly, as if she can feel you getting over confident. The string of recent wins against the Minister have gotten to your head a bit.

You push yourself a little fast in response. There's too much running ahead of you to really go all out just yet though, so you hold back just a touch. Just until you get what you're looking for. After that, you can cut loose.

As you're turning a corner towards your destination, there's a deafening  _boom!_ and the ground under your feet shakes for a moment. You don't bother stopping or asking about it. It's just Steve, hopefully, and he... mostly knows what he's doing. Probably.

 _"That door coming up on the right, Five,"_ Sam says.  _"That's where the computer banks are. We should be able to extract all the data we need from there."_

You skid to a stop in front of it, and try the knob. Locked.

 _"Damn, okay just-"_  He doesn't get a chance to finish that thought before you've kicked it in.  _"Oh! Uh, well alright then."_ You allow yourself a small smile at his reverent tone.  _"Keep going, I've got an eye out for you. Steve's still keeping everyone busy, but don't take your time."_

You pull your backpack off and get busy turning on the first computer and plugging in the external hard drive Janine had given you. You mess with the computer's booting process for a few moments, so that Janine can get access to it, and that's your job done for now.

 _"Very good, Five. Monitor that computer for now, but stay ready to grab the drive and run if necessary,"_  Janine says.

You do just that for several minutes. There's only one way in or out of the room, so you keep your eyes bouncing between the door and the computer in time to the bouncing of your heels. Over your headset, you listen as Sam and Janine both give instructions to Steve. He's in a tough spot, it sounds like. They won't call you away from this to help him though.

 _"Five, there's a zombie running through the building,"_  Sam says, suddenly addressing you again.  _"S-type, it looks like. There's someone running with it, I think... I can't really see, they're trying to jam my access. It's making the feed all messed up."_

"Janine?" you ask, glancing back to the computer. Only sixty percent done. You've got a few more minutes of waiting before it's done.

 _"They know you're there, just not_  exactly  _where. If you run, we lose our chance. If you stay, they will likely find you,"_ Janine takes a deep breath.  _"I'd like to leave the decision to you, but as I already know what you will undoubtedly choose, it would be cowardly of me to put that responsibility on your shoulders. Especially should the outcome be unfavorable."_

"Janine," you cut in, feeling fond. "If staying is the best option, I stay. No question."

 _"Very well,"_  She replies, some of that same fondness mirrored in her tone.  _"Draw your weapon. Stand ready."_

You turn to look for cover first, and find yourself lacking. All the computer desks are wall mounted. You've got an array of desk chairs, but they won't do you much good as something to hide behind  _or_ to barricade yourself in with. No, the best you can do is exactly what Janine to you to do.

You draw your pistol. You aim it at the door. You wait.

Sam keeps an eye on the zombie and the person following it, updating you on their movements until they finally start down the hallway you're on. The anticipation is starting to get to you a bit. Your hands are shaking, just a little, and you take a deep gulp of air to steady yourself. Footsteps echo down the hall, growing closer with every beat of your heart. Not long now, until they'll reach you.

_"They'll be on you in three... two.. one!"_

The door couldn't be locked after you'd kicked it in, so the zombie isn't deterred at all when it comes bursting it. You fight the instinct to  _run away,_ and bring your gun up to aim at the head, gaze focused, finger tightening. Your first shot misses when it actually  _feigns_ left, though your still shaking hands may be just as much to blame. You don't take your eyes off the creature for a second though, and you adjust your aim for the second shot. Your eyes find it's face again, and you stare right at the spot between the eyes. You aren't going to miss this time.

Before you can pull the trigger for the second time, you recognize the face of the zombie, and your knees nearly give out.

Sara.

The zombie- Sara- has stopped coming at you. She just stares blankly into your eyes, both of you standing rigidly in front of one another. You mind buzzes loudly and you can't move, you can't speak, you can barely draw breath.

Sara opens her mouth, grey and decayed around the lips, and groans. "Fiiii-ive."

She's dead, but that's Sara's face. That's her body, her voice. A hundred memories slam into you all at once. Your pistol slips from your fingers, discharging as it hits the ground. You only realize the other person Sam had seen on the cameras is even in the room when they cry out in pain, your errant shot managing to down them. It barely pings on your radar. Sara captures all of your attention, as usual.

 _"Runner Five! Pick your weapon up!"_  Janine yells frantically. It sounds like she's a million miles away, practically on another planet. 

"Janine." You're shuddering, eyes unable to break away from Sara's face. You haven't seen her in so long. She's dead. She's... But you can save her? That's what Abel has been working on, after all. A cure. You might be able to use it and bring her back. You might be able to make it all right again. How did she even end up here? 

It's Sara. She's back. How doesn't matter.

 _"Oh my God. Janine, is... Did they really do that?!"_  Sam sounds outraged, more pissed off than you've ever heard him before. It cuts through some of the fog around you.  _"I'll fucking kill Sigrid. I swear, I will."_

 _"Noted, Mr. Yao, but do try and snap your runner out of their stupor before Sigrid kills them!"_ Janine snaps. Sam doesn't have to snap you out of anything though, because you realize what's happened all at once.

The zombie in front of you, saying your name, is not Sara Smith.

They did to this zombie... person... what they had done to your double. The zombie Runner Five that bit Sam. Not actually you, not actually Sara, just people made up to look that way. A distraction for you, no doubt to stop you from stopping the person that was trying to make off with the hard drive.

The zombie still isn't moving. Not even when you stoop down to grab your pistol. It's staring at you, groaning your name and nothing else. It's not Sara. You have to laugh a little, because if it  _was_ Sara's zom, it would have already killed you. They must have trained this one to be still when it sees you, to make sure you had a chance to see it's face. To make sure you were too stunned by it's appearance to notice someone sneaking off with your intelligence.

 _"Five, just kill it,"_  Sam begs.  _"It's not really her. Sigrid did this. Just kill it and go."_

It's a very good distraction, you'll give Sigrid that. You'd also like to give her a bullet in the spine, next time you come across her. 

For now, you have something else that needs shooting.

The zombie Sara look-a-like doesn't move when you raise your gun again. It barely twitches when you pull the trigger. The shot cuts it off in the middle of saying your name again, and it crumples into a heap on the floor. You stare at it, reminding yourself over and over that it isn't Sara. Janine and Sam are silent over the comms. You apologize quietly to the zombie. They didn't deserve this, whoever they were before.

The person, one of Sigrid's soldiers, is still on the ground, clutching their chest. A lucky shot for you, not so much for them. They're going to die, no doubt about it, and it is going to be slow and painful. It won't be the first person you've killed. Not even the first person you've killed on purpose. It still makes your stomach sick, knowing you've cause this.

You glance to the side and see they hadn't managed to disconnect the hard drive before you shot them. It's only got two percent left to go. There are about thirty seconds before you can grab it and leave. You consider your options for ten of those seconds.

"Be still," you say gently, putting the gun to the soldier's temple. Their eyes are wild, terrified, and their face is contorted with pain.

"Tha- Thank-" They sputter, groaning. You blink away tears.

"No problem," you say, then pull the trigger.

Janine's voice is a touch hoarse when she talks to you. 

_"We've got what we need, Five. Get the hard drive and come home."_

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

It's a very long drive home.

Steve is driving, despite his injuries far outweighing yours, what with how busy he'd been keeping the brunt of the compound's security force off your back. He's got the steadier hands at the moment though, and the clearer mind. You'd nearly drifted into the ditch when you'd first taken the wheel.

"So. Sam, uh, didn't really tell me anything about what happened," Steve says conversationally, dragging you out of your thoughts. He glances over at you, then traces his eyes along all the blood spatter on you. It's browned a little, but it's obviously fresher than any zombie would be. "Not always easy, killing."

"No," you agree, biting down hard on a comment about how he never seemed to have much issue with it in the past. Not before Kefilwe dumped his ass like a sack of shit, in any case. You're restraint isn't out of kindness though. It's more because there are a hundred ways he could retort to that with that you can't really handle right now.

"But that's not why you're wool gathering, I take?"

Not entirely. He's right about killing not being easy, but this wasn't your first time dealing with it by a long shot. You can't even feel entirely bad about this time. Your first shot had been accidental, and the second had been a mercy. That, and they had brought that  _thing_ to you. It might be the only time you've killed someone that you don't feel your sense of self slipping away. Instead, your thoughts are wholly consumed by the zombie with Sara's face.

"Did you know Sara? Personally?" you ask. Why you're bothering asking Steve, of all people, you don't entirely know. Because he's the only one available, maybe. That, or because he's one of the few people who knew Sara, or at least knew of her, from before the apocalypse. 

He taps his fingers on the wheel. "Yeah, I did."

Considering he'd automatically known which 'Sara' you meant without you having to explain, you figure he probably knows her as more than just a legendary figure. 

"How?" 

"She was my mentor." He flashes you a grin when you drop your jaw in surprise. "Well, that might be a bit of a stretch. She did teach me almost everything I know about fighting and firearms, though."

"That-" You swallow, shaking your head a little. "That actually explains a lot."

Steve laughs aloud. "I'm sure it does. She hated me."

"She hated me too," you say, a smiling forming on your face unbidden. "Pretty sure she'd have killed me, given half a chance."

"Oh no." Steve shakes his head. "No, no, not what I mean. She hated me the whole time she knew me. From what  _I've_ heard, she only hated you for a little while. After that, well." He raises an eyebrow at you. "I heard she liked you rather a lot."

You feel yourself flushing up at the insinuation. He's not wrong. Not in the slightest. You'd liked her rather a lot too.

"Yeah," you say, sobering up some as you rub at her tattoo, a neat black '8', on the left side of your chest, hidden by your shirt. Steve's eyes are on the road still, but you think he notices. It's a nervous habit you picked up after she died, when you're scared or upset. He was bound to pick up on it sometime. You just wonder if he'd going to ask you directly, ask someone else, or make his own assumptions about it. 

"Why do you ask?" Steve questions, tone a little more subdued in reaction to your own. "Not that I mind, but I've never known you to start a conversation with me on your own."

"Yeah, well, I don't like you," you say dryly, and he barks out a laugh. Anyone else and you'd assume they thought you were joking. There's no doubt in your mind that Steve knows exactly how much you don't like him though. Odd as it is to admit, he almost reminds you of Simon in that way. The difference being that you actually  _do_ like Simon. He just never could believe you when you told him.

"That's what I mean," Steve says. "You don't like me. Hell, I'm sure if it wasn't for Janine keeping you on such a tight leash, you'd have tried tossing me around by now."

The emphasis he puts on 'tried' irks you more than you're willing to admit. Far be is for you to remind him that Sara trained you as well though. There's no point in showing your hand, should he think to turn on Abel again. Better to let him think he can take you on and win.

"What's your point?" you ask, huffing in irritation.

"My point in, why the hell would you ask me about Sara Smith? I'd think I'm the last person you would want sullying her good name by speaking it aloud," he says, serious again. That's his 'I'm fishing for intel' voice. He's about as subtle as Sara was, which is to say, not at all.

"Not the  _last,_ " you reply simply. 

"That's not a full answer."

"I don't owe you a full answer," you snap.

"Neither did I, but I gave you the answer you asked for and then some," he points out. There's no way for you to argue against that. It would only be fair of you to answer his question, even if a large part of you doesn't give a damn and would rather keep him wondering.

Another part of you is very tired of secrecy. It's been a very trying day.

"I'm sure you remember Sigrid's zombie? The one she sent that looked like me," you say with little inflection. Steve glances towards you, a flash of what might be guilt in his expression. "...She made one that looks like Sara. I had to kill it."

"Shit," Steve says after a very long stretch of silence. He doesn't follow up with anything else. No apology, no consolation. You don't know that you'd want anything like that from him anyways.

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence, with your head leaned up against the window, watching the scenery pass. You think about Sara, and what she would think about all of this.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

"I haven't told anyone," is the first thing that Sam says when you step foot into Janine's house for a debrief. Steve is still getting patched up in the hospital, but you'd been released after Lobatse gave you a quick once over. You don't know if Janine is here yet or not.

"Told anyone?" you ask, removing your shoes at the door. Sam wraps the string from his hoodie around and around his finger nervously, hardly meeting your eye.

"About that zombie. Or that soldier, but the prick had it coming."

You suck in a breath and nod. "Okay."

"Did you want me to?" he asks, a hint of panic to his voice. The string is tight enough that his finger is starting to purple at the tip. "I- I just thought you might not want anyone to know."

"No, I don't," you say in a rush. He swallows hard.

"I'm sorry," he says, meaning what happened to you earlier today. It's not his fault in the slightest, but you both know that. He looks very lost and small, not too different from how you feel. It's written all over his face that he knows you're hurting and that he very badly wants to help.

"Thank you," you say, trying very hard not to choke up. Not that you really mind crying in front of Sam, God knows you're far too late to bother with dignity where he's concerned. It just seems like the wrong time.

Then again, timing has always been one of the biggest problems with you two. 

He sees what's going to happen before the tears even well up in your eyes, and he's quick to grab a fistful of your jacket and drag you forward into a warm embrace. This is familiar. This feels right, no matter how wrong a situation is, and it calms you enough that you don't actually start sobbing in earnest. His hands, bigger than you'd really think they would be considering how slight of frame he is, smooth up and down your back, pausing only here and there so he can tighten his hold on you. His hoodie is going to have a very damp patch on the shoulder when Janine and Steve show up, but it's hard to care about that when you feel so very safe and cared for right now.

"What would I do without you?" you sigh, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, but not enough to escape his arms. You sort of doubt he'd let you go if you tried. Well, maybe if you tried. He's looking at you with stars in his eyes though, like you're this wonderful thing, and his hands make fists in your shirt, snaked up under your jacket. You don't really want to leave, even if you do feel like you're burning up from the inside.

"You'd do alright," he says, a little hoarsely. You can't help but melt a little. He never can keep from crying when you cry. "I don't know what I'd do without  _you_."

Smiling, you cup the back of his neck and draw him forward to rest your foreheads together. He takes a deep breath through the nose and sighs. Sam means so much to you. After the last few years, the constant fear of him dying or thinking he was dead, you've been forced to confront the possibility of a life without him. There had been a time when you'd thought Sara would be with you forever. At the very least, you'd expected to die first. You'd thought after she died that you had nothing left to live for. You'd thought there was no way for you to move on from her.

It's been hard, but despite the crushing grief that had paralyzed you for so long, you've actually healed. It hurts still, but you don't want it to stop hurting. You never want to be so over Sara Smith that you don't ache for her, at least a little. Even with the hurt, you're okay. You're living your life without her, and it's... it's okay.

"I think you'd do alright," you echo quietly in the little space between you and Sam. He's so close, still staring into your eyes like you're precious and wonderful. You never know what to do with all the feelings such looks give you, so you just hold them in and hope they don't make your chest burst someday.

Sam Yao is too good for you, truly.

"Hmm, maybe," he agrees, a little reluctant. "I'd rather never know."

"Same here," you say.

He sighs deeply, bringing his hands up to cup either side of your face. Then he pulls back, kisses you right on the bridge of your nose, and gives you a big dopey smile.

"I meant to talk to you about what happened, not just go to pieces," he says, a touch sheepish. You huff a laugh.

"Don't worry about it. I'd rather not," you reply, and he rolls his eyes.

"Color me surprised. You? Not wanting to talk about your feelings?" He slaps a hand over his heart theatrically. "Say it isn't so."

"Shut it, Yao." You punch him lightly in the shoulder. There's still a heaviness settled over your heart, but he had made you feel better. Better enough to get through a debrief over this mission without falling apart, at least. 

He is right, though. You'll need to talk about how you feel about what happened at some point. Letting this sort of thing just fester inside of you is what leads to nights spent screaming yourself awake, or not sleeping at all. 

For now though, you set your hurt aside and let Sam's hand slip into yours as you walk to the kitchen.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

You and Janine aren't actually sleeping together, despite all rumors to the contrary. Not in the biblical sense, at least. It's understandable how people get that impression; you haven't been particularly bothered with keeping your comings and goings from the farmhouse at all hours inconspicuous. Janine hasn't bothered hiding that you share her bed more often than not either.

It's not even necessarily that you  _wouldn't_ sleep with Janine. In the biblical sense. You would, but you haven't. There are other things on your mind, bigger worries that still the stirring in your gut that would prompt you to try. Plus, you think Janine has had quite enough runner induced heartache in her life. Adding to that is an unbearable thought.

Mostly, you try to keep those thoughts out of mind. It's not going to happen, so there's no point in focusing on it. The only reason you're even thinking about it tonight is because while Sam had held one of your hands during the debrief, she had squeezed your knee under the table. Both of you had loved Sara Smith. She's probably the closest to knowing how you feel right now.

She walks into the bedroom just as you're pulling on your sleep shirt, an old worn out thing that was once Sara's. Most of her old clothes, along with Simon's, now belong to you. You don't wear them for runs; you're too afraid of damaging them. They make you feel secure when you sleep, anyhow. 

Janine steps over to you, dressed down for bed as well, her hair braided back from her face. You stand still as she reaches out and tugs your neckline aside, baring Sara's tattoo. She rubs her thumb over the black, now slightly faded, ink, causing you to shiver.

"I miss her," she says candidly. 

You cover her hand with yours, pushing her palm flat against your skin. No doubt she can feel how hard your heart is beating. She purses her trembling lips, and closes her eyes. 

"Me too."


End file.
